Classroom Deviance
by OutToGarden
Summary: Our boys are painfully bored in physics class, so Alfred employs some fun coping methods.


**Alfred's writing is in bold**

Arthur's writing is underlined

The events that follow are inspired by a true story :)

* * *

Physics class has never been more boring in my entire life. Don't get me wrong, I was almost always bored in this class, but today is honestly unbearable. I can usually force myself to pay attention and learn the necessary material, but it's Friday and we're learning about reflections. I'll admit it was cool when the teacher sprinkled baby powder onto the laser beam, but now she's pulling out mirrors and droning on and I'm banging my head against the desk in the hopes it'll render me unconscious.

I can tell that even Alfred, sitting beside me at our lab table, is bored out of his mind. Normally, this is his favorite class and he's anxious to learn new things, but by the fifth explanation of the same bloody concept, he's squirming in his seat and glancing in my direction periodically in a way I'm sure he finds inconspicuous. It seems to take forever, but eventually the lights go off to shine yet another flashlight onto the ceiling and he instantly takes the opportunity to whip out his notebook and loudly tear out a sheet. Moron.

"Turn to page 460 and make sure you have your chart," the teacher instructs. She really is a sweet woman, but with graduation just two weeks away, nobody in our class full of seniors can bring themselves to give a damn. I casually glare at my table mate as he hastily scribbles something down on the sheet and slides it over to me. Under normal circumstances, I would studiously ignore the paper and pay attention, but at this point, I'm so desperate for the distraction that I'll indulge him. Not to make him happy, mind you, but simply because I need to take away from my own misery.

**Artiiiie I'm so bored :(**

Idiot. How does he manage to be so whiny through written letters? And can he not see that everyone else bored in here as well? By now, the teacher is drawing circles on the board that are meant to represent concave and convex mirrors. Casting a look around the room to make sure nobody will witness my small act of insubordination, I scrawl a response and shove the paper back at him.

I fail to see how that's my problem

I can see him pouting as he reads the note, causing me to smirk victoriously. Nothing like the smell of American burn in the morning.

"How many rays do you have to have in order to locate the image?" the teacher asks, waiting a few seconds before moving on when nobody so much as attempts to answer. I might feel bad for her if she didn't insist on being the only class still trying to teach us things. Honestly, doesn't she see in our faces how little we care? Hearing a rustling near my hand, I see that Alfred has written a response and is grinning boyishly. I roll my eyes, taking his sudden enthusiasm as an indication that the note will contain something idiotic.

**Tic-Tac-Toe? :D**

I was correct. Boredom and passing notes is one thing, but I absolutely draw the line at resorting to such childish nonsense. Making sure he understood this with a pointed glare, I hold his gaze as I crumple the paper and stand to deliver it into the recycling bin. For a ten second round trip, it certainly does wonders to stretch my legs and quell my burning need to do something besides sitting and mindlessly watching the clock tick further towards freedom. Upon my return to our shared lab table, Alfred is slumped in his seat and making a forlorn expression at the board.

"This is important knowledge for measuring the magnification."

"Fascinating," I mutter darkly to myself, but in the quiet of the room, the teacher hears me.

"Isn't it?" she chirps, oblivious to my heavy sarcasm.

I last another five minutes before beginning to fidget uncomfortably. Chancing a peek at the clock, I internally groan when I see we still have almost an hour left of this stupid class. Curse our school to Hell for requiring that all students take three lab science credits and then only offering physics, chemistry, and biology. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see that Alfred has momentarily occupied himself with doodling on a corner of the paper that we were supposed to be writing notes on. I huffed, wishing the lights weren't off so that I could read my book in my lap.

After several more minutes of casting glances at my lab partner, he finally realizes that I am trying to catch his eye, smirking at the pained expression on my face. He seems almost too pleased as he tears out another sheet of notebook paper, alerting me that it is time to school my facial features into a more reluctant one. I can't look too excited about conversing with my irritating git of a boyfriend. What comes next on the paper, however, is entirely unexpected.

**What are you wearing?**

I recoil in shock, shooting an incredulous look at the far too smug American seated beside me before narrowing my viridian eyes in anger. Stupid wanker.

You know bloody well what I'm wearing you git! I write furiously before chucking the sheet back at Alfred.

I can hear him snickering lightly and resist the urge to kick him so hard he flies off his chair and crashes into the lab bench next to ours.

**Don't be like that bb! ;p I'm trying to have sexy talk :D**

I roll my eyes dramatically, making sure he sees. The things I have to put up with. Knowing him, he will pretend to be shocked when I reject his advances and then proceed to ruthlessly pester me until I kick him in the gonads or cave. For a long moment, I sit and consider my options. On the one hand, I can repeat my previous actions and make a big show out of throwing the paper away. I am far too dignified for the sort of thing he is trying to initiate (at least in the middle of our classroom) and shouldn't allow him to get away with doing however he pleases. Not only that, but we are _in the middle of class. _On the other hand, neither of us care if we miss out on the oh so interesting lecture, the teacher is oblivious, the lights are off for the demonstration, and my boyfriend is sitting right beside me, willing to provide my favorite type of entertainment (not that I will ever admit that). I suppose…that maybe it wouldn't be so terrible if I went along with it. Just to humor him, of course, and I will certainly be playing hard to get until he has convinced me to do otherwise. After all, it wouldn't do to actually express that I found the idea of writing such things exciting.

Well knock it off. We're in class. And what the bollocks was that first face?

Alfred's eyes light up as soon as he reads that, knowing that all he has to do is get me into the mood before we could be happily having…paper sex? This is a terrible idea, when I put it that way.

**Never And it was obviously me sticking my tongue out at you while winking. :) Sooo, what would you do to me if we were alone in this room together?**

Honestly, can he get more clichéd?

I would beat you over the head for being so stupid

**Aww I knew you loved me!**

Keep telling yourself that, dearest

Alfred frowns lightly at this, probably unhappy that we have gotten off track with our notes. As he pauses to think of something to say to bring the conversation back to its purpose, I take the opportunity to glance around the classroom. Nobody seems to have noticed our note passing yet, much to my relief. In fact, nobody else seems to be noticing much of anything. From where I sit on the far right side of the class, I can see at least three people who are currently asleep and a large handful who are texting on their phones.

**If we were alone, the first thing I would do would be to pick you up and place you on top of this lab table**

Is that right?

**Yeah, and I would scoot you forward and wrap your legs around my waist**

Charming

"So next Friday, we'll be having a test on this," the teacher informs from the front of the class. Everyone likely would have let out a collective groan, except literally nobody was listening to a word she said at this point. I can't tell if she realizes this, because she is teaching like her usual peppy self, but surely she has to know in the back of her mind, at the very least. At our table, Alfred frowns from my lack of response to his descriptions, but really, the boy should that I'm not going to make it easy on him.

**Then I'd kiss you, real slow and sexy and rub along your thighs the way I know drives you crazy**

My breath hitches slightly at this. Now we are at least getting _somewhere._

Oh? Go on

I can see Alfred grinning in triumph and bouncing a little in his seat. This irritates me, so I smack his arm lightly to convey that he should knock off his antics before the teacher catches on to his enthusiasm and finds it suspicious. Alfred makes a cowed expression, mouthing _sorry_ before turning back to the note and scrawling his response.

**Mmhmm And when I had you finally kissing back and moaning a little I'd use my other hand to go along your back and massage that ass of yours ;)**

While I oppose to the ridiculous way he worded the last bit, I can't help but close my eyes and try to imagine the scene. I have to admit, the idea of fooling around in a classroom was a bit of a turn on, not that I'd ever tell him that. I smile slightly, starting to get into—now wait just a moment.

What makes you think your pathetic kissing skills would ever have me moaning?!

I can tell Alfred has to physically suppress his snickers when he reads my reply, the wanker.

**Babe, don't be shy 3 I have evidence from plenty of past experience**

Don't be so presumptuous. I'm sure it would take much more than that

**Fine! :p Then I would start kissing across your cheek and over to your jaw, making sure to get that sensitive spot right near your neck and sucking a little**

And your hands?

**Still at your thigh and ass, getting more teasing to make sure you have no doubts that I'm going to fuck you on this table**

Damn. He knows I love it when he talks dirty like that. It was and is one of my biggest weaknesses when it comes to the bedroom (or classroom, apparently) and he exploits it to unfair degrees. I would work up the energy to be irritated at him if I wasn't so suddenly interested in what else he had to say.

Don't think I'm going to make this easy on you. I would be using my legs to pull you in closer to me and gripping your hair with one hand while using the other to begin slowly unbuttoning your shirt

**Mmm yeah baby, just like that Once you were nice and hard I don't think I could wait to take your shirt off, I'm just ripping off your pants then and there**

Tsk, always so impatient. I'd let my hand trail along your chest, rubbing into your nipples before moving down to your belt

**Yeah, keep going while I start rubbing you through your underwear**

Then the belt is coming off so I can reach my hand down into your boxers and grab myself a handful of stiff American cock

It is at this point that I remember that we are in the middle of class. Not only are we passing scandalous notes and blatantly violating school policies about paying attention (and I'm sure there in an anti-porn policy in place somewhere), but I am also beginning to have a rather uncomfortable problem in my pants and I can tell from the way Alfred is shifting in his seat that he is having a similar issue.

**God, you're so kinky for being so good at this **

You started it! But really, we should stop now before I have to make some excuse to drag you off into the bathroom

**Who needs a bathroom?**

I look over at Alfred in curiosity. I can tell from one glance at the mischievous expression on his face that he is planning something. Something I am not going to approve of. Something that my partial erection most definitely _will _approve of.

What are you talking about?

"So as you can see, the distance would be negative when we are dealing with concave mirrors because they curve inward," our teacher drones. Slowly, out of the corner of my eye, I see Alfred fold up the paper we have been passing back and forth and setting it to the side. Is he going to chicken out of our conversation after getting me worked up like that? I am about to reach over and snatch the sheet away so that I can ask what he is doing when I suddenly feel a hand on my inner thigh. Sharply inhaling a breath, I instantly smack it away out of reflex and give my boyfriend an _are you crazy?_ expression.

Not ten seconds later, the hand is back with a vengeance and is rubbing slightly higher circles than it had been the last time.

"Oi!" I whisper shout. "Will you cut that out?" My only response is the devious grin of a boy that knows what he wants and is absolutely intending on getting it. I can feel his hand slowly beginning to rub higher millimeter by millimeter and I must admit that the sensation feels rather amazing in addition to worsening my erection. When the fingers lightly brush over my crotch, teasing my length, I gasp quietly and grip the edges of the lab bench.

"Alfred! We cannot do this in the middle of class!" I scold as quietly as I can.

"Why not?" he whispers back, continuing the motions of his fingers over my pants, applying pressure in the worst (best) possible way.

"We'll get caught," I argue weakly, feeling my resolve fading quickly as he teases me to full hardness.

"Write down this formula onto your notecards. Does everyone understand how the inversion works?"

I glare at Alfred one last time for good measure, but by this point he has used his other hand to begin rubbing into his own crotch, his eyelids closing partially in pleasure. Fucking hell if the sight of my boyfriend touching himself isn't one of my top three favorite scenes in existence. Trying to control my breathing, I shakily reach over and snag back the sheet of paper to issue a singular warning before using my hands to carefully unbuckle my pants and allow the wandering hand entry.

Just stay quiet

Alfred nods before reaching a hand into both of our pants and pulling out our erections simultaneously. I hiss as his hand makes contact, using a fist to stifle the sounds attempting to force their way out of my mouth, while my other grips onto the table for support. _God_ does that feel good. It hasn't been all that long since the last time we had gone at it (in the privacy of our own homes, mind you), but somehow the sheer publicity of our act makes it so much more erotic. Just knowing that we have to hurry and do it quickly and quietly or else we could get caught and in very deep trouble is heightening the pleasure. Hmm…perhaps that's why friends always joke about me being such a kinky bastard?

I can tell Alfred is finding it just as arousing as I am. His large, warm palms work over both of our cocks in a synchronized rhythm, eyes closed in bliss, labored breathing that we are desperately trying to stifle. I look around the classroom in a swift arc just to make sure nobody is giving us furtive, uncomfortable glances. They aren't. Just then, Alfred's thumb sweeps over the slit at the head of my dick, causing me to let out a breathy moan and double over the table slightly. Seeing Alfred's own reaction to a similar motion on his cock, I lean over to his side of the table and put my mouth at his ear.

"Alfred," I whisper hoarsely, shifting quickly back to my own side before the teacher can scold us for talking. I know he loves it when I say his name during sex, and judging by the hissing sound he lets out, today is no exception. Before I can prepare myself, his hand on my penis speeds up, teasing at the head and working its way down the length before lightly fondling the balls and moving back up. It is getting harder and harder for me to keep my expression neutral, as the pleasure continues to try and make itself known on my face, but if we want to remain unnoticed I have to at least look like I am still bored and wishing for suicide. Alfred whimpers softly beside me, never one to remain quiet, and I reach out to lightly stroke his thigh to remind him that I am right there with him. He casts a loving look my way to show his appreciation and continues to move his hands faster.

"The variables here might seem kind of confusing, but these are the designated ones for the concept."

Bollocks to your concept. I can tell we are both getting close to release, as I have essentially stopped caring about whether or not people could see us. Actually, the thought that everyone in the room _is _watching and growing jealous of how good Alfred and I are feeling only turns me on further. The hand I placed on his thigh sneaks up the limb until it is stroking along his cock in time with his own.

"Nng, Arthur!" Apparently, the unexpected feel of my hand in addition to his is too much for him and he cums into his hand while screaming my name. The sight of his orgasm face and the sound of my name instantly have me spilling over the edge as well, blind to everything except me and Alfred in our pure ecstasy.

The first thing I realize when I come down from my high is that Alfred's hands are now covered in our cum and we have nothing to wipe it off with. The second thing I realize is that the room is now eerily silent except for the sounds of both of us panting obscenely loud, as Alfred's yell has alerted the entire room to our activities. The third thing I realize is that _the entire room has just been alerted to our activities. _

My eyes widen as I jerk upright in the seat that I have apparently become slouched over in, looking around frantically at the room full of eyes that contain mixed levels of accusation, disgust, shock, and to my horror, arousal. Alfred has stiffened impossibly (and not in the good way this time) beside me, realizing at the same time I do that there is no way we aren't about to be in a world of trouble because of his loud, uncontrolled mouth. I can tell that my face is the most burning shade of red it has ever been, but whether that is from shame or the exertion of getting jacked off, I don't know. Finally, I hesitanly meet the eyes of our teacher, terrified of what I will see there. To my surprise, all they contain is intense dismay.

"Are my lessons really that boring?" she wails. Alfred and I both stare at her in shock, not comprehending.

"What?" I say intelligently.

"I mean, I know this section of physics isn't really the most fascinating thing to be doing, especially when none of you care about your grades anymore, but _come on!_" she continues, getting visibly upset. I exchange a confused glance with my boyfriend, wondering if she has actually misinterpreted the situation. "Or, I should say, _don't _come on, since it looks like the two of you got that covered." No, it would appear she understands the situation perfectly well.

"Uh, we're sorry miss! It was my fault, really, Arthur is totally innocent!" Alfred hurriedly says.

"Wha- that's not true!" I exclaim. No way am I letting my boyfriend treat me like some damsel in need of protection. "I encouraged him, really."

"Don't listen to him! I forced it and he shouldn't get any blame, just punish me!"

"_Alfred _you git, I-"

"Enough!" the teacher shouts, commanding our attention. "Neither of you are getting in trouble."

"What?" we say in unison. She looks so utterly defeated in the moment that nobody else in the classroom dares to make a sound.

"I'm done," she announces, plopping down in her chair. "Clearly no learning is going to happen, so class dismissed. For the rest of the year."

It takes about seven seconds for her words to sink in before everyone is cheering and hastily packing their things and hightailing it out of the room while shooting the pair of us amused and thankful looks. Realizing that both of Alfred and I are still very much exposed, I tuck myself away into my pants before doing the same to Alfred and grabbing our books.

"Come along, we can stop at the bathroom on the way so you can wash up," I say, leading my blushing boyfriend from the room with as much dignity as I can possibly muster, considering what had just happened.

And so, the last class of our high school career was also the most memorable and Alfred became utterly forbidden from ever passing notes with me again.


End file.
